For all those who were missing me

At last for all those who were missing me in this blog...I am back.The reason of this vanishing act will be justified when you will check out the pictures down below....hmmm...the task was not simple but not cumbersome also as we as a team enjoyed doing this team work.For all those in the same fraternity no explanation is required when i say "we  were busy organising a ladies meet".For those who dont...let't be simple, me and my team of four friends entertained a good amount of guest.

 oh...my...i loved it !!worth the effort ..thanx to all those who pitched in and made it look like this.

   Let  the picture do the talking....here's the blithe...yyy...brimming chilly winter evening with fun and entertainment.Blue & White..theme came for the rescue.

Oh...yaa,,,welcome all...

Group game and fun...laughter ensued!!!

Staryyy affair..

Sumputous spread....(we call so...)

Touch all the woods ...my high spirited, ebullient friends who made it happen!!

 Usha,Parul,Sindhu,Anupma,Lakshmi...Thankyou...

The lucky star tree .....raffle winners!!!
More fun and pics in coming post's for sure ...keep visiting ...i'll keep blogging .

Rake and rambling!!!

 Am raking and rambling

Seriously ..i need to kick start all again.Its been long time this blogger baby has been setting up a new house,and still the fine tunings are on.So what i should not be neglecting my two month old blog like this .
 And here am back with a whole lot to share with you all.Sam my little smug is bleating as to why every time he has to start from scratch to impress and make new friends(girls???)how do i explain, that's the art of this life.Oli is all ebullient and has full bandwidth to explore the new place.

  Me ....i am all set. A new bunch of beautiful people all around .The only thing is, all this shifting settling has debilitated me a little, which am sure will soon retain back to normal as we gregarious birds can no longer hold back indoors.And yes my calloused hands and feet calling out for a little pampering .Some spa please!!

My husband (the divine intervention in this beautiful life) most of the time managed to hoax and coaxed me to the interior deco part.But this time i granted him that much as i knew he was seriously a bit busy.Everyday he walked into a portion by portion done house and enjoyed the transformation from a cluttered to a neatly done up place.Well i definitely was elated by his kind gestures of approval (he didn't want to take a chance also).

Well the fine nuances can keep happening ....so you keep visiting my blog..give me that little nudge to blog more.See ya!!

Long time

Hello to all my friends,

  I know i am regularly irregular, for a long time of two weeks now.But its not all my fault too as i really got busy shifting home to a new city..err ..its not all that easy though we keep doing it often as my husbands profession demands so.Still each time that careful selection of packing stuff for crockery's ,crystals and other valuables that i have collected over a period of time is painstaking.

   Now opening up the stuff is another tedious and cumbersome process .I hope by the time my husband retire i am all set to open a packers and movers.well will soon be blogging about certain wonderful stuff i have seen on the long drives we had in between these shifts.

see ya soon

FREEDOM TO LIVE .

       
     A highly objectionable tweet / status / comment in a social networking site has prompted me to write this small para about what freedom means to me, earned through the ages of incessant fights, angst, revolt, struggle by thousands of courageous leaders who did not flinch even before the roar of bullets.

A salute to all the great countrymen, the fruits of whose efforts make me roam and wander anywhere in the country inspite of the debacles due to religious issues, corruption in politics, turbulent economics, disorder in budgeting (soon tomatoes & onions will be kept in lockers to ensure maids have no access).

Well the status mentioned above which put me aghast reads(roughly stating) “there are more big things than INDIA”…..I am shocked. This slack comment, still not sure on what context an Indian can comment like this. Isn’t it insulting the valiant efforts put together by many brave heroes? Isn’t it rebuking my country so publically?

Hope this youngster brimming with energy and enthusiasm was unknowingly in a fractious loose moment whiffed this statement and am sure he don’t mean it.

My friend X, over a cup of coffee narrated an incident which lingered in my subconscience since. She, married to an army officer, right after her two months of matrimony was subjected to a quirk of fate - The Kargil war. Her husband was to get deployed in one of the fiercely fighting locales in an effort to regain the lost glory of our country. He woefully explains the situation to the new bride.

Husband:      U should show some courage, the situation is worsening, they need me, I need to act, and my courage is your support. Though nothing can stop me from going, I don’t want to see you wretched .Tell me, it’s your call you want to have a baby, whose father might not return, or you have an option to forget and forgive me and have another man and a wonderful life,sweetheart.

What went through this lady’s mind.

I am sure she was lacerated and bleeding a hundred wounds inside. She would have wanted to growl on those morons who brought a war and teared her yet to germinate marital bliss. An ember of fire in her brain, if I say yes to a baby, may be the war will usurp a father from the child, if I say yes to the second option; I am no less of a coward, a virtue far to be inherited by an army wife. Held in piteous, unnerved times she dolefully remembers the testing time of her nubile life. She was in complete thrall to all these nightmares of the brutality a war could bring.

Freedom to talk, freedom to share thoughts, freedom to walk the streets, freedom to send children to school, freedom to trade ,freedom to travel across,  freedom to work…what more; freedom to live can be ENDED, if a WAR happens.

There will be only pain; mournful cries of hunger, famine, riot, arson, bloodshed, suicides, and fratricides….you want it to happen? (Oh dear brother..Tweeter).If there are big things than INDIA, well you, we, us all should be alive safe and healthy to tweet this. For that say thanks to the hundred thousand officers and jawans of the armed forces who’s sleepless nights, food less fights, gallant actions amidst bullets and bombs whining past them and at times through their skulls has bought us this free will to live.

The wife finally decides,

 Wife: I want to have a baby. I want to tell him, how courageous his dad was. How much of a patriotic he was. And if the almighty wish you will be back to tell the story lives yourself.

Today I salute all the courageous leaders who fought for my INDIA and brought us laurels.

“HAPPY INDEPENDENCE DAY” to all fellow INDIANS.

About my friend X,

Her husband a triumphant winner joins us at the fag end of the coffee session giving his able shoulder for his sweetheart to weep on.And their son gets back from play to remind them of a wonderful decision taken.

ADDING MY SON'S WAY!!!

 I am in  great  spirits today listening to the beautiful country songs by Don Williams…it goes, I am a rake and rambling guy….me too feel the same every morning, until things are back in place after the  threesome have left.

                    Yesterday was another learning day and as usual the gurus happen to be my children. Knowledge     doesn’t come easy, you have to go through a gruesome, tight rope walk with an all defying deep valley, under your nose breathing heavy. If the metaphor used seems unfamiliar, here is the glorified explanation.

Time 7:00(p.m).Its homework session. The most difficult part of the day, as it’s no way enticing for the little devils to sit for an hour or so, glued in one place. The restless souls under my unwavering attention, have to go through this tedious process. A real tussle time- every day.

                           Well in these sessions many a time I control myself not to loose my cool on the withered handwriting's, stay calm while reiterating the same spelling the n-th time and most of all maths homework’s gives me a feeling of insomnia. The father dove keeps on assuring me “everything will fall in place”.

So what happened was:      

                                                                          

Son Dove:       “Today Maa’m asked us to practice addition”

Mother:            “u knows it’s so simple…you need to be a little sharing to understand this concept”

S.D:                    “Ever since my sister has come I am so giving “        

     

Mother:             Fine, here you have two chocolates, olive has got three and she gives two more to               

                          you, now count how many you have?

S.D:                    Amazing!!! I have four and am loving addition.

Mother:           Fine, now assume you have one glass of milk and I am giving you two more, so how

                          many you have now?

SD:                  Unfair…..I don’t want to add bad things in my addition, count only good things

.

                       (  Well his undeterred repulsion for milk is revealed  here  )

 

         Though this boy didn’t know the depth of the great sentence he blabbered, it made me think .How sweetly said, the perception of things, what to count and what not to count discovered was amazing. I thanked him in my mind and carried on to the next level of the session.

                  Unfortunately we adults possibly miss the big picture, Happiness in counting good things. We are basically unhappy because of our fantalisms.Like this boy said, if am adding, my neighbour’s chirpy nature than how much of a smug she is, my friend X, her witty nature than her petulance when multitasking, my friend Y, who’s a great cook & entertainer than her paranoism to share the recipe, Z who’s there when you need her than her pessimism, One feels more happy and contentful in the atmosphere this way.

 

  So let me start my good share of counting today itself. Go on life, teach me a new lesson tomorrow, as there’s no big teacher than life’s experiences. I am loving this mathematics of counting.

Sam's happy counting!

                      

             

                   

Happy Friendship's Day!!!

Sam & Oli with friends

To all my friends who shared a good laugh, a small bite (back-bites too), helped me by sending a meal when I was down in health, who dropped in with a bouquet of flowers on my special days, shared the common woes (husbands are common targets), baby talks- diaper rashes, colic’s, sleepless endless ranting nights, fussy-eaters ….you name it we have babbled it together.

         To tell you life is  zero salt- pepper without these good-friends around me that today, when I have finally found solace in blogging away my time, when you all are away, I jot down a few lines about how I feel for and about you. 

         A piece of information for those who are bemused with the  sudden enlightenment in my life and my quest of expression of the same in my writing in recent times - Sweetie’s, it is giving me immense pleasure to share these snippets of unharmful drama unfolding everyday with my kiddies group. I am battling to hone my skills in writing, as they say “better late than never” so I am ready to catch the bull by its horns. Reflections of my graduation day, reminds me of a certificate I secured for the best story writing organised by Help Age India. And now that the kiddie-gang hovering around, a story board is ready  effortlessly in my blog.

So a big Happy Friendship day to all the people who come under my big billowing flag of friends.

·         I am jealous of many of you still managing to hang out together.

·         In those callous hours, you made me laugh and keel over with your wits

.

·         The strident demands from the head of the departments (college), we braved and waded it together by making the submissions after a cutnpaste from a kindred soul.

·         The impish n devilish grins we flashed on the days ‘Fresher’s are welcome’.

·         The impudence we managed incessantly to have those nick-naks together from again an unadulterated, soft spoken soul.

·         Felt grumpy, fretful and sullen together, about that simian featured (our jealousy speaks volumes) girl casually ruffling the tall hunk’s hair in chemistry lab.

·         Making those finger-horns eerily, while getting clicked together.

·         Trying to spook our next door neighbor cladding white with eye lids up-turned and candle in hand.(That chicken heart fainted, she complained and warden snapped derogatory words…spooky story morale-bring more authenticity).

·         Uff finally the adulterated jokes we shared in college on our way back from college on scooty-pep, making it go in a sinuous way.

    

There’s more and more….never ending good-times we had together. I THANK YOU ALL.

Let’s take friendship to a whole new level…by taking this resolution, we will surely resolve to take efforts  to talk to each other as frequently as possible, find time to drop-in, atleast in cyber world to again crib, laugh ,share..and enjoy this journey of life.

·          

The lost roots.

                                                       

                                                                    I am simply stumped many a time the way my kids react so funnily, or when their superfluous oratory skills are on display, expressing their wisdom which makes us parents even more embarrassing. Why? Firstly this gives an easy impression to the outsider to make a snide comment of inherited culture. Secondly the more doleful factor is that you are helpless for your child who is in his/her most guileless stage.

                                  I am coming to the outrageous influence media has got on children these days. Technology‘s tentacles spreading in every atom, is definitely a boon when it comes to convenience and prosperous luxuries one deals with. But at the same time has its prying talons too.

                             These strong technical-flaws-impacts came to the notice of my small brain only when motherhood came to me...as, I as a child lived in an era of the simple (yet it continues to remain unadulterated)Doordarshan, where programmes were limited and had a house-wife kind of existence .

DOORDARSHAN-HOUSEWIFE??? See what used to happen is doordarshan gets up between 5.30 to 6(same does a housewife), after ablutions when those VIBGYORS appear, then comes that psychiatric technique, those concentric rings moving slowly & soft soothing music (again a house wife is lost the first few minutes as where to start from …my case) then finally something constructive comes in. Some carefully selected documentaries one or two serials and then that long news hours (some cooking, laundry wash, material purchase &supply logistics & a little catching up with the neighbour  ...itchy-bitchy-H.W stuff) and then a deep slumber, again those vibgyor. So it goes, and my justification of calling doordarshan a smart woman.

                                         My mother allowed us to watch, Vikram-Bethal –a serial with a series of moral stories, Malgudi days (my favourite) which portrayed the great R.K Narayan’s lucid stories and a movie a week  aired  on all Sundays. And later in our teens we managed to convince her for Rangoli which was the only gateway for Bollywood’s latest songs and fashion. In those times (am I sounding archaic?) movies and songs used to picturise romance in a very subtle manner..You know what I mean...two birds or two roses or the bushes did the needful. The heroines used to give that electrified, galvanized, magnetic movements to those gesture of a touch from the hero..How sweet as I believed, it happened. The tailors too did a magnificent job as I still wonder how they managed to sew them so tight..body hugging outfits (thanks they are  fully clad).

                 Today my kids are spoiled by the n-channels sprung before them ,and parents are forced to child-lock a lot of adult-material channels. Still the ones commonly watched too is not safe as we live in an age where modernity is moderated obscenity.

              The point to be insinuated is that its far different nowadays….where my daughter at the age of two and a half is humming shiela ki jawani (shiela’s sensuous moves  ...uff) and then comes jalebi bai cladding next to nothing. A son too watching, giving me coy-looks is giving me shudders. U flinch at most of the ads as it showcases incongruous material for kids. And the funny ones really put you in trouble like “DAAG ACCHE HEIN” now when my son comes back all smeared after jumping in that muddy puddle I am supposed to welcome with a smile as the mommy in ad does. And the super bikes ad comes with a sassy chic sensuously biting (full pouty lips zoomed in) and toying with the macho rider in full traffic.

                A similarly horrified and concerned mommy, my friend, says her son (Eight yrs) explained that bike means girl and boy having fun. He looks triumphant and mommy’s dreams bursting in that thin air. Certain cartoon series too need to be reviewed as the characters instead of bringing positive change are moulding a more rebellious, satirist, zombies easily and our children are enthralled completely in these. I overheard a girl whispering to her friend I need to go home otherwise my mommy gonna whack me like the one in that cartoon. (Mother is sheer adjective of petulance in this one).

               We better name this era the internet savvy or the web-world era, which has its real sticky webs to tangle you the moment you succumb to it. Be careful with children who at a young age have face book accounts and know well to operate these user friendly traps. Make sure to keep a tab on them in a discreet manner as the youngsters find that invading into their privacy.

          Earnestly ,I feel a gauntlet is thrown at me, in bringing up my children sober, simple yet smart keeping up the innocence of childhood .My task is big ,is my courage getting shrivelled??? Well I dream of a  generation ,cultured not arrogant, intelligent not idiots, magnanimous not immatured,flexible not incorrigible, leaders not cowards .So my attempt is to help them( my sweeties) perceive the good and  curb the bad ,after all the pivot is hope and hope for the best.

Hello everyone...here am trying my first comic series which originates from my own house 

....Shakespeare's famous saying so apt for the situation

"All the world a stage and all men and women merely players"

Prompt came that jerking......reply.

Clean bowled.

Catchy one liners!!

This is a very old joke shared during  our school days,

What is the hat saying to the pearl?

You hang around while I go ahead.

I have taxed my mind to the extent that the following one-liners took birth...here I add it with great pride, read, enjoy or it sulks you? Lemme know the reaction.

What’s the pen saying to the paper?

You are so laid back and I will scribble you till end.

What’s the broom saying to the dust?

Our love can take ugly turns.

What’s the ladle saying to the pan?

I will add more saltnpepper while you get burned your as…

 

What’s the senior telephone saying to mobile phone?

What were you up to with your boss in that out of coverage area?

What’s the wrist watch saying to the wall clock?

You precisely say tic-toc while I get fingered.

What’s the old boots saying to the stilettos’?

You are too young to stand on your feet.

What’s the pressure cooker saying to the rice?

Getting a sauna bath when I am whistling my life out.

What’s the flame saying to the candle?

 My little offspring it’s your wax- out day.

What’s the highway saying to the four lanes?

Let’s meet at the junction.

What’s the hair clip saying to the earring?

I will stay tight and you swing loose.

What are the braces saying to the teeth?

I will harass you out of shape.

  Well, enough for the day i guess.would love to know your reaction and somebody out there with  better verbal skills whose witty liners can evoke a laughter are welcome to share it.

 

.

Those Orange Stains!!

 Those Orange Stains.

                     I happened to visit my convent school, recently where I started with those small steps towards knowledge and empowerment. Not to mention, a gush of emotions clamped me. Giving a sweet peeve to my hair, I perched on the cemented chair painted green gazing at those ages old trees lined so perfectly providing natural shade , the unanimity of white and blue tunics and double braids flanked by respective house colour ribbons (well now ..need to say it’s an all girls school) never seemed so luscious. The band in-charge sister Laurel was very strict she divided the school into three houses blue, green and red.

                    I was a blue house girl and my loyalty to blue continues till now (check my wardrobe???). Sister Joan Mary was my glorified grade one teacher. She loved knocking (softly as per her standards) on our knuckles with a wooden ruler, as she was so particular about English cursive writings. The first one she coiled out in bold curves on the black-board was- ANIMALS (did she mean us?????).My words were like ants carrying sugar in different directions, so withered away they looked. Poor me used to stand last in the queue dreading the hurricane waiting to originate in minutes. And it occurred in the form a flying saucer (my copy in air). Well like all happy endings, today I thank her for that insult ,as my mom pushed me for hours of writing cursive(pluck out the I and V) and here, I write so beautifully.

                                         The break time for twenty minutes was heavenly and much awaited, for as it’s during those times along with the small bites we caught up on the favourite shows, the heart throbbing heroes, about that cheeky -snooty girl on the back seat, and many many…more, as we grew into teenagers. But my parents were thoroughly impressed by the school management, the teachers and, oh-so appreciated fact was the fines levied on speaking Hindi.U converse in English only. Today finally I say thanks to all my teachers for being patient enough and teaching us systematically which any day will do good for me. All efforts worth it, as it at least helps me adapt with those elite ladies clubs.

                            Here to mention with great importance is the funny looking haggard guy, who sells ice candy’s outside the school gate. The glitter of one rupee instantaneously made his emaciated bony hands pull up candies in various colours from his big box. I loved that orange ones. And there was none in school who wanted to miss this yummies.Somehow a despairing school administration and  parents group  didn’t like his loitering anywhere  near the school premises. Whatever they tried this man was sure to stand near the gate exactly waiting for his connoisseurs to arrive. In one of those encounters with the candy man ,my younger sis persuaded (sorry for the blame) me to buy a candy showing me that coin which she managed to fish out from our own piggy bank. In that excitement to taste those I forgot my ethics of being a sensible elder sister. We promptly bought one and enjoyed the coloured chilled juice oozing down the throat. If these are known as the small pleasures of life ……...

                            The way back home we discussed the candy with great pride to our friends. They with mouth wide opened and gulping air in between, gaped desperately.

                                      My mom, a very friendly person now, was a disciplinarian during those days.While helping us change there came that quizzical look from mother, and a sudden “you people tried those candies?” .NNNNNOOOOO-trying to manage that sheepish grin I   answered. She took us before the mirror asked us to pull our tongue outside …they were so orange in colour…and there, the orangish stains in the white shirt spoke for itself .The inglorious act and to top it the big lie made both of us shame-full.Whereas my mother, gave a smile and said which still echoes –never be scared of the truth, be it anything .

  Thereafter those blissful orange candies came only in my dreams.

Aunty Greeta

                                                              Aunty Greeta is our cherished neighbour back in kerala.Everything about her amused me. Aunty Greeta was loud by all means.   A loud name to her credit, Agenus Greeta George, a family of two boys, a girl, a macho husband and mom n dad. Her children too were named loud-Julian Iraneous(god sounds like a person owning a fleet of planes) Millie Milred( are u tired) and finally said ok to tubectomy after Levin Sebastian. She had a high-pitched shrieky voice matching her tall almost six foot figure, she always wore frilly knee length frocks showing her well toned calf muscles.Miles away the fish seller could hear her screeching out, I need a kg of mackerels, as he trades on his bicycle making this melodious “koooiiii”…by this he is alarming prospective customers who can’t think of a fill without. When aunty greeta laughs (we no longer call it a laugh –a roar we meant) she added a sack of salt to the neighbour’s inquisitiveness. When she fought, she did it so indiscreetly with her macho man that she added oodles of fun to the same parties.

                                         Well she was  destiny’s child as she was adopted by this generous Anglo-Indian couple from an orphanage somewhere in Goa.They named her Greeta ,send her to school, thereafter she had a normal  upbringing. When she was fourteen years old her parents decided to tell her the truth and she rebelled on her identity (or existence???). She was defiant to find out her biological parents but she only hopped in darkness as nothing constructive happened. She started hating her adopted parents (this syndrome still is mysterious to me) for no reason of theirs.

                            Then came Mr.George Samuel Thottunkal who mesmerised her during her typewriting and shorthand coaching days in her institute. He happens to be the institute owner’s son’s friend’s friend(what a close relationship to mention).Eventually the bonding grew and resulted in the above mentioned beautiful household.The parents with their support system managed to send Mr George to Dubai dreaming of  a sophisticated lifestyle for their adorable daughter, who no longer even cared to acknowledge their presence around.

                                         Life became more of comfort for aunty Greeta as she was surrounded slowly by all luxuries.(parents still in neglection).She made  fun of them before her kids not knowing –what goes around definitely comes around. Wait don’t judge her so fast.

                                   Well all said and done she was a true Christian. She never missed her Sunday masses, whenever somebody was in need she will rush to the spot. A great entertainer for all children. She sang and danced passionately around them. Her big frame shook in mirth with any group she was around. She jostled in and out the crowds she came across with ease. That’s why I said wait to be judgemental.

             Aunty Greeta was a cleanliness freak too. She loved her house, her clothes, her children, her parents (for that matter yes)all expected to be neat and tidy. So came in paranoia of not depending on the washing machine she had …but to wash it all by herself….well there begins all my fun.

                                                                        She selected Sundays as her laundry day while Millie Milred cooked some fish and rice. Five to six buckets are lined in an array, then goes in some selective fabric freshener and detergent powder.Oh…ho… starting of that laborious process is accompanied with some beautiful songs all praising Jesus and Mother Mary .She takes a break to vociferate the oh so white shirts her sons were able to turn into oh so brown. Ranting ends (as no one gives a damn) singing continues…..oh Jesus your sea so big and my boat so small………will add more about her in the coming ones.